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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1124317" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 41Time seemed to freeze for Zenna, staring up the staircase, her own wound forgotten as she watched Ruphos battling the half-dwarf slaver.  The air seemed thick like water around her as she tried to run toward the scene that moved inexorably, inevitably, forward.  She heard the continuing battle with the hobgoblins behind her, heard Mole call her name, but it meant nothing as she saw Ruphos lift his mace to strike, saw Kazmojen knock it away, saw the spear-end of the urgrosh come up...“NO!” she screamed, helpless to stop it.  When the spear drove through Ruphos, striking what could only have been a killing blow, she felt as though it were driving through her as well.  Fario, meanwhile, confronted his own difficulties.  Upon the death of the howler he’d rushed to the aid of Fellian, too late to save his friend from being struck down by the last hobgoblin guard.  The hobgoblin, encouraged perhaps by the triumphant roars of its master, or its victory over the half-elf cleric lying at its feet, refused to flee despite being outnumbered.  It met Fario’s rush with an attack that forced the fighter into a defensive stance.  The two clashed blades noisily once, twice, three times, until finally Fario, driven by a realization that time was not on their side, drove forward, knocked the hobgoblin’s sword aside, and thrust half of the length of his sword through his adversary’s throat.  He crouched by Fellian, worry written on his face.  The cleric was alive, but bleeding profusely from the wound in his side.  A momentary indecision crossed Fario’s features, but then he took on a look of intense concentration, pressing his fingers to his temples.  A few seconds later, Fellian vanished.  Fario rose and turned back to the stairs just in time to see Ruphos run through.  Kazmojen held Ruphos up, imprisoned on the shaft of his weapon, smiling as he watched the life drain from the cleric’s eyes.  Then he let urgrosh drop, placing his boot on the dead man’s chest as he yanked the weapon free.  He’d taken a beating, but his steps were still strong as he strode forward, and a renewed fury burned in his eyes as he looked down at the fallen form of his howler.  “For that, I will make each of you feel pain, before you die,” he said.  Zenna just stood there on the steps, frozen, her eyes wide as she watched the slaver come slowly, almost carelessly, toward her.  But then she felt Mole come up beside her, and her friend’s presence seemed to make the fear drain away.  “We can run,” Mole said, in gnomish.Zenna looked down at her friend, the calm look on her young face.  Zenna knew what she really meant, You can run.  Mole had to know what she’d already recognized, that there was no way that the short-legged gnome would be able to outdistance the powerful dwarf, even clad in armor as he was.  Fario came up beside them, a look of determination on his face.  For a moment a strange look crossed his face, as if a conflicting thought had suddenly crossed his mind, but then he shook his head, and his grim visage of determination returned.    “Come on then, slaver,” he said, his bloody sword ready at his side.  As he reached Zenna and Mole, he lowered his other hand, twisting it so that its contents were hidden from Kazmojen’s view.  In it, they could see a small vial.  Mole moved behind him, taking up position on his far side, palming the vial as she did so.  Kazmojen regarded the three of them coldly.  “Your friends are dead, and I suspect that the dwarf was the fiercest that your little band had to offer.  You cannot hope to defeat the likes of me.  I have faced horrors of which you can only dream.”Zenna suspected that the dwarf was stalling for some reason, and she opened her mouth to say something, but Fario beat her to it.  “Come on then, dwarf—or whatever you are.  Your little doggie there was an interesting warm-up, but I’m ready for a bit of challenge.”Kazmojen fixed the half-elf with a dark stare, but he lifted his urgrosh and charged, surging forward in a seemingly inevitable rush.  Fario drew his shortsword, but instead of rushing to meet the slaver, he dodged back, his blades slicing out in a dancing parry to cover his retreat.  Kazmojen used his long arms to slash out at the fighter, nearly catching him despite his quick movements, but the half-elf was quick enough to avoid the opening rush.  Zenna and Mole both retreated quickly from the half-dwarf’s charge, each knowing they could not hope to stand before him in open battle.  Zenna fell back to where she had dropped her crossbow, willing her hands not to shake as she drew a bolt from her quiver and loaded the weapon.  Mole, meanwhile, downed the rest of Fario’s invisibility potion, and even as she faded from view was darting nimbly and silently down the steps after Kazmojen.  Fario continued to give ground, slashing at the slaver, scoring minor hits that failed to penetrate his heavy armor.  In his defensive stance, Kazmojen failed to hit the nimble elf, but once again switched from a combination of axe-strokes and spear-thrusts from the different ends of his urgrosh and instead turned to an all-out assault with the axe.  “You can’t escape me, elf!” he roared, and his words seemed true as he clipped Fario with a sweeping cut that tore a vicious gash in his side.  “I’ll tear you.... AARGH!”Kazmojen cried out as Mole appeared directly behind him, the gnome holding her sword with both hands as she tried to drive it deeper into the slaver’s body.  The invisible rogue had found a gap in the half-dwarf’s armor and exploited it, sliding her sharp sword through leather and cloth and flesh and muscle and into the soft organs underneath.  But Kazmojen was possessed of a monstrous fortitude, and he turned, realizing his mistake in dismissing this diminutive foe.  He dropped the axe and reached for Mole with claws augmented by steel, his gauntlets tipped with jagged ends of sharpened metal.  A crossbow bolt ricocheted off his breastplate, causing him no harm but drawing his attention.  “Don’t you touch her,” Zenna snarled.  Kazmojen opened his mouth to shoot back a reply, but only another hiss of agony came forth as Fario came up from behind and buried his own elven-forged blade deep into the slaver’s back.  Kazmojen staggered around, fixing each of them with a hateful stare in turn, his mouth twisting in a snarl of contempt.  Then he fell to the cold stone floor, unmoving.</blockquote>

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